Banter in the anteroom
by I-Am-The-Stig
Summary: What were Vetinari and Miss Palm talking about before Madam sent Vetinari on a quest to save Vimes? Night Watch. No hanky or panky. Clean. One shot.


**i have an obsession with discworld and vetinari but was disappointed to find that most of the fics were slash, so i thought i might do a little one shot of my own to encourage people to write better stories about him.**

**disclaimer: i worship the ground at terry pratchett's feet, i don't get paid for writing this fanfiction, but if i did then i would send it to the acclaimed master of satire.**

**hope you enjoy it.**

Madam closed the door to the anteroom quietly.

Rosemary Palm settled down on the lounge and made her self comfortable in preparation for a long wait. Finally, all their hard work had paid off on they would hopefully be rewarded with a patrician who could run Ankh-Morpork with a fair and steady hand.

Miss Palm felt a breeze on her face and turned to see the window opening by what looked to be its own accord. Miss Palm believed that she saw a faint shadow climb through but wasn't very certain.

"Has Madam left already?" said a voice from the shadows.

If she hadn't seen the window open then Miss Palm would have jumped three feet in the air, regardless of whether she was sitting or not. Vetinari was so quiet.

"She just left," she said.

"To make her acquaintance with the new patrician?" he asked in a way that made it seem more like a statement.

"Yes," Rosemary Palm replied after a short hesitation.

There was silence. Rosemary moved to another position on the lounge, feeling awkward in the presence of the quiet assassin.

"So how is… inhuming people, going?" she asked to start a conversation.

She had never been in the same room alone with Vetinari before, in fact she had never really had a conversation with him. She didn't really want to talk about his assassination victims but it was the first thing that came to her mind.

"Quite well thankyou," was Vetinari's curt reply.

There was a moment of silence.

"Is it hard?" Miss Palm tried again.

"Not very," replied Vetinari.

"Do you like it?"

"Do you like being a seamstress?"

Rosemary Palm was a caught off balance by the unexpected question.

"What? Oh um… well it's a living, it depends really," she recovered.

"Same here."

There was another awkward silence, or it was awkward for Rosemary at least.

"Can you actually sew?" asked Vetinari.

"What?" asked Miss Palm, caught off guard again.

"Can you sew? You know, stitch, embroider, the making of clothes out of thread and fabric."

"Well, no actually."

"Do people ever come to you asking you to sew a button back on or darn their socks?"

Rosemary thought that she detected a hint of a smile in that question.

"Quite a few, mainly foreigners. There is a Real Seamstress who shares my apartment and takes in their clothes though, so they don't really know of their mistake," she said.

"That's interesting," said Vetinari, "do you ask them if they would like to have a look at your assorted range of garments while they wait for their clothes to be fixed?"

"Were you being sarcastic?" Rosemary asked slightly annoyed.

"No."

"Then no," she said haughtily.

There was a long awkward silence. Rosemary fidgeted and tried not to look at where she last heard his voice. The sensation that there was somebody else in the room left her and went on a holiday to the caves of Cori Celesti.

"Are you still here?" she felt like she was talking to herself.

Until a "Yes" entered her ears.

"It's very hard to see you," she stated.

"Good," said Vetinari.

"Why is that good?" asked Miss Palm insulted by his tone.

"It is proving that my techniques are more effective than the conventional stealth tactics of the Assassin's School," Vetinari explained.

"Must you stay hidden?" Miss Palm asked, "I feel as though I am being snubbed."

Vetinari sighed, stepped out of the shadow and plonked himself down into an armchair near the fire.

"Better?" he asked.

"Yes, thankyou."

There was yet another silence in which Rosemary Palm felt uncomfortable. Vetinari just stared into the fire, which was doing the foxtrot until one flame slapped the other for looking at another flame.

"You don't dress like a normal assassin," Rosemary observed.

"The black that the assassins wear would only be effective in a dark cellar on a moonless night," Vetinari explained.

"Oh, so you think more practical than peacock," Rosemary said.

"Yes, something like that," Vetinari agreed.

"How old are you?"

"How old are you?"

"I asked you first," Rosemary said indignantly.

"Why do you want to know?" Vetinari asked.

"I was just curious," said Miss Palm sulkily.

"There's no need to get angry Miss Palm," Vetinari stated, "I was only playing."

Rosemary just glared at him.

"If you must know," Vetinari sighed, "I am turning twenty four in a few days."

"Congratulations," Miss Palm retorted.

Vetinari just sighed and turned back to stare at the fire which was now having a domestic argument.

"You know you really put people off sometimes," said Rosemary, still annoyed.

"I know," said Vetinari happily.

"Why?"

"Because I Can."

"That isn't very nice."

"I'm sorry," Vetinari said sarcastically.

"You're being sarcastic again aren't you," Miss Palm stated.

"No. This is the first time tonight that I have used sarcasm," Vetinari said in a matter-of-fact tone.

"You're impossible!" Miss Palm said exasperated.

"Thankyou."

"That wasn't a compliment."

"You mightn't think it was but I certainly do."

"I'm just not going to say anything," said Rosemary.

"Fine with me," said Vetinari.

"We can just sit here in silence," said Rosemary.

"Again that is fine with me," Vetinari stated.

"I hope you feel really uncomfortable," said Rosemary.

"I highly doubt I will," said Vetinari, "and if I was the type of person who became uncomfortable with awkward silences then I wouldn't get the chance because you keep talking."

Rosemary didn't respond but instead made her self comfortable on the lounge. She waited for him to try to start the conversation again. She knew he would. Men always became uncomfortable when women weren't speaking to them. He wouldn't be able to endure. She'd make him suffer. He'd try to talk but she wouldn't say anything back until he was suitably uncomfortable. She wasn't going to be made to feel uncomfortable in the awkward silence. Damn.

"You're an ass," she said.

Vetinari turned to look at her, one eyebrow raised and a slight smirk on his face.

"Contrary to your belief, I am actually human," he countered.

"If you are ever in need of a seamstress then please don't come to me," Rosemary said.

"No. I think I would go to your friend who can actually sew," he stated.

"She doesn't do that sort of thing," Rosemary said angrily.

"Pardon?" he asked confused, "correct me if I'm wrong but did you not say that the woman that shares your apartment is a Real Seamstress, of the sewing profession?"

"Yes."

"Then why did you just contradict yourself?"

"What? Oh, I thought you meant that you would prefer… it was a joke wasn't it."

"Yes, though it seemed to have become lost in translation," said Vetinari.

"Another figure of speech?" asked Rosemary meekly.

"You could think of it that way," said Vetinari cryptically.

There was another lull in the conversation except this one wasn't awkward.

"I wonder what the new patrician is like," Rosemary wondered.

"I can imagine him to be the type who is either all talk and no action," said Vetinari, "or someone who pretends to listen to people and seems to be concerned for their welfare but then turns out to be another paranoid, cruel tyrant."

"Why do you think that Snapcase would be like that?" asked a surprised Rosemary.

"I have a tendency to make observations and see patterns," Vetianri replied.

"But how can Snapcase turn out like that," Rosemary asked, "he actually goes down into the city to see what needs fixing and Madam seems to think that he would be better than Winder."

"Better maybe but only just," said Vetinari sombrely, "don't take my word for truth, I may be wrong."

"If you are I want to talk to you again," said Rosemary with a suspicious smile.

"So you can rub it in my face?" Vetinari asked knowingly.

"Obviously," said Rosemary.

"I highly doubt that you will get the chance to do that," said Vetinari confidently.

"Really? Are you so confident in your personality judging abilities that you would be willing to bet?"

"How much?"

"I don't know, maybe AM$20 dollars."

"Is that all?" asked Vetinari.

"That's as much as I'm willing to bet," Rosemary admitted.

"Fine, you got yourself a bet," Vetinari stood up and extended a hand to Miss Palm who shook it.

Suddenly they heard what sounded like a Stampede and a few quick steps drew closer to their room. Vetinari stood back and disappeared almost immediately into the shadows. Madam burst into the anteroom. Miss Palm stood up as she came in.

"Have they –" she began.

"Where's Havelock?" Madam demanded.

"Here," said Vetinari, detaching himself from a shadow by the curtains.

"Take my coach. Find keel. Warn him. Snapcase wants him dead!"

"But where is –"

Madam pointed a threatening, trembling finger.

"Do it now or receive an aunt's curse!"

Vetinari disappeared through the window.

"Damn!" said Rosemary after a sudden realisation.

"What?!" asked Madam, turning to face her in alarm.

"I just lost twenty dollars."

**so how do you like it? **

**REVIEW and you will get Moist Delicious CAKE!**

**i've been in an absurdist mood lately, which is really startng to annoy me.**


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